


A Serious Lapse of Judgement

by elynne



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Other, Pirates, Quest, Thieves Guild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-28
Updated: 2012-06-28
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elynne/pseuds/elynne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yet another NPC tries to double-cross the Dragonborn, who takes the opportunity to give a fellow Argonian a learning experience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Serious Lapse of Judgement

Kirasa approached her fellow Argonian warily. She'd learned to read the expressions of humans well enough to know that the ones she'd passed on her way down into the belly of the beached ship were hiding something. As she watched Deeja, the person she had been told to contact, she noted all the signals that humans always missed--the dilated pupils, flaring around the gills, flush of blood to the nostrils--and knew she had been set up.

"Ah, so you're the one that Jaree-Ra sent. You've earned your reward."

Kirasa snorted, raising her head and ruffling the feathers of her crest. She replied in Jel, the native tongue of the residents of the Black Marsh. "Reward? You haven't been spending enough time with your own kind, -swamp sister-. I was hoping that an enterprise run by fellow Saxhleel might not turn out to be a joke. Why is it that every time I find another of our people in this frost-rimed land, they're either trying so hard to be human that they might as well cut off their own tails, or a useless fool?"

"You're the fool," Deeja snarled, still speaking the human language as she unsheathed her dagger and crouched into a fighting stance. "Because you helped by putting out the fire, you've earned a quick death, but you get no respect from me or my brother. You're not our clan."

Rather than drawing a weapon or raising her bow, Kirasa stepped back and let out a fluting call. The raiders on board the ship twitched and glanced at each other as the eerie sound echoed through the creaking wooden structure. 

"Why are you laughing? I'm about to cut you open!" Deeja said, inching forward.

"Your nestmate made a very poor choice in recruiting me, then." Kirasa blinked her inner eyes and pinched her nostrils. "You have no idea what I am, do you?"

"What you are?" The other Argonian paused and tilted her head, eyes narrowing. "You're a fighter. A mercenary, and a stupid one at that." 

Snorting again, Kirasa slung her bow over her shoulder and held out one empty hand, palm up. "In the one claw, I'm in the employ of the Thieves' Guild, based out of Riften. I know their reputation right now is poor. That is something I have been working to counteract, in part by making competent contacts in other cities. I was hoping to add your brother and yourself to the network I'm rebuilding, but..." Her lip curled as she glanced aside at the corpse of an Imperial soldier floating in the brackish water. "I can see that you're a pair of incompetent amateurs who would only be a liability."

Deeja blinked as Kirasa held out her other empty hand palm-up, completing the gesture and leaving herself to all appearances unarmed. "In the other claw... it turns out I'm dragonborn. Do you know what that means?"

"Dragonborn?" Deeja's eyes widened and her nostrils flared, crest drooping as the implications began to sink in. "The one who has been killing... dragons, and eating..."

"Taking their souls. Yes." Kirasa's lips pulled back all the way, displaying her sharp teeth as a pronounced hiss crept into her speech. "I see you begin to understand, little swamp sister. I had to come to this icy hell to learn that I am the Claw of the Ancestors. That I have been given the gift of the ancient blood." Abruptly Kirasa gulped a quick, deep breath, the nictating membranes slipping over her eyes as her nostrils pinched shut, and then she spoke a word that came with a jet of fire.

Deeja was caught completely by surprise. She screamed as she fell backwards, flailing at the flames that crawled over her body, hot enough to set her damp leathers alight. Through her pain and panic, she could see the red Argonian standing in the doorway, watching dispassionately. Somehow, she managed to crawl into the sludgy bilge on the floor and roll. The hissing of extinguishing fires mixed with her hisses of pain.

There was a sudden rush of movement above her, then a sharp weight on her throat. Struggling weakly, Deeja opened cracking eyelids to see Kirasa crouching over her, holding the point of her own dagger to her blistered throat. "In light of our shared ancestry, I will grant you... a relatively quick death." The rogue's yellow eyes and white teeth gleamed in the creaking darkness as she leaned closer to her fallen opponent's ear. "But your sibling's reward for his foolish mistake will be much less comfortable. When you face our ancestors and tell the tale of your failure, think of the lovely green leather boots I will be wearing soon."

"Nooo..." The agonized croak cut off as Kirasa shoved the dagger through her throat and up under her jaw. For a moment, the red Argonian considered the twitching body. Then she straightened up, leaving the dagger embedded in her fallen opponent's head, and melted into the shadows, drawing her bow in preparation to give the pirate band their own justly earned rewards.


End file.
